And so they overturned some mountains of dull-colored stuffs that appeared like mere sacking in whose dull woven designs could be dimly discerned legs, arms, heads, and branching sprays of metallic green.
Don Esteban had found these fragments already torn by the farmers into covers for their large earthen jars of oil or into blankets for the work-mules.

They were bits of tapestry copied from cartoons of Titian and Rubens which the notary was keeping only out of historic respect.
Tapestry then, like all things that are plentiful, had no special merit.

The old-clothes dealers of Valencia had in their storehouses dozens of the same kind of remnants and when the festival of _Corpus Christi_ approached they used them to cover the natural barricades formed by the ground, instead of building new ones in the street followed by the processions.
At other times, Ulysses repeated the same game under the name of "Indians and Conquerors." He had found in the mountains of books stored away by his father, a volume that related in double columns, with abundant wood cuts, the navigations of Columbus, the wars of Hernando Cortez, and the exploits of Pizarro.
This book cast a glamor over the rest of his existence.

Many times afterwards, when a man, he found this image latent in the background of his likes and desires.

He really had read few of its paragraphs, but what interested him most were the engravings--in his estimation more worthy of admiration than all the pictures in the garret.
With the point of his long sword he would trace on the ground, just as Pizarro had done before his discouraged companions, ready on the Island of Gallo to desist from the conquest: "Let every good Castilian pass this line...." And the good Castilians--a dozen little scamps with long capes and ancient swords whose hilts reached up to their mouths--would hasten to group themselves around their chief, who was imitating the heroic gestures of the conqueror.